Don't Think
by Umino Ayame
Summary: ScarxRiza. Oneshot. The pair meet in the sewers. Mild violence. Mild blood. NOT ANGST!


**A/N**: Yes, I am beyond twisted. Behold, that which is Scar/Riza. Hope I didn't slaughter it. I saw a challenge somewhere, don't remember where, but there was a list of pairings the author would like to see. So, I picked this one. I'm not entirely sure how it turned out, taking into account several things.

One, it's my first het FMA pairing, and only my third total FMA fic.

Two, there's a REASON you never see this pairing, and that's because it's really freaking hard to write! Neither Scar nor Riza are very passionate, and that makes it especially hard to keep them IC. So, I'm pretty sure that they're both at least a little bit OOC. Riza moreso than Scar, probably.

Three, it isn't angst, which is definitely my forte, at least as of late.

You must thank my new muse, Yohko, for listening to me whine about this and telling me that I had to finish it. Wow, this is a really freaking long author's note. So, I'll shut up and let you read now. ...Riza's eyes ARE brown, aren't they? I don't remember...so don't hurt me. ;;

But I'm happy with it. So it doesn't matter.

I'm currently working on request fics for Yohko, as a present for being so helpful, but drop me a line if there's something in particular you'd like to see, kay? I'll try pretty much anything...as this fic shows.

**Don't Think**

The man stared at her for a moment; silent, intent. Bloody irises gave her the feeling of being sized up. Her own dark brown eyes narrowed. She hated being judged.

Rough fingers caressed the smooth grip of her pistol, more for comfort than anything else. She wasn't seriously considering pulling her gun on the Ishvarite, at least not at this point.

"You're good with that," he finally muttered, eyes disappearing again behind dark lenses, rendering him unreadable as he gestured in the vague direction of her holster.

She made a small sound of agreement deep in her throat, her eyes not moving from his tense form, ready to respond to any sudden movement.

Scar slowly began circling to the right, stepping carefully on the slippery cobbles of the sewer corridor. His torn jacket flapped with the movement, the exposed tattoo on his right arm drawing her gaze for a few seconds.

Riza mirrored his movements, her sense of self-preservation overriding the fact that it felt like running away. She had to be alive to bring him in.

"So, what's your real motive, Scar?" she asked, her voice low and strained as he led the intricate dance.

They both knew he wasn't going to run away just yet. He'd seen Riza with her pistol. There was no way he could make a break for it and avoid getting a bullet in a vital area.

So; they continued to circle. He would step, and then she would. All quite predictable.

He leapt lightly to the right, not quite startling Riza. He was light on his feet, for such a big man.

And then, curse of curses, the blonde's nose began to tickle unpleasantly. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, she almost missed his next movement. Abruptly, he was three or four feet closer, and two feet to her left.

Riza responded accordingly, her military-issue boots clicking softly on the cobbles as she moved to her right, effectively putting her a bare ten inches from the sewer wall.

Her nose tickled again. Somehow, when she wasn't looking, Scar had gained another six inches on her.

Riza decided it was time to start fighting back.

And then Scar gained a huge advantage.

Riza sneezed.

Her eyes were only closed for an instant, but when they opened again, her wrists were held against the uneven stones of the sewer wall. Riza was effectively pinned by Scar's much larger body.

She snarled, her fingers twitching as she went for her gun much too late. She was caught.

Scar's impassive face met her own as she quickly ceased the struggle. She needed to think, not waste energy on the useless fight. Earthy brown eyes met crimson red, and every moment she expected to feel her body being torn apart by that awful scarlet light.

But it didn't come. Scar didn't do anything.

He just stood there, his body pressing against her.

Riza could've howled with frustration. She was a person used to being in charge, on the offensive. She needed ACTION.

But Scar was just standing there. As though waiting for her to make the next move.

Which didn't make any sense at all.

She was in his power; what was he waiting for!

"End it," she spat, grinding her teeth. She fiercely restrained the part of herself that wanted to just give up. That was completely unacceptable.

Scar didn't respond. He just continued to stare blankly, his face a mere two or three inches from hers. Much too close for Riza's personal comfort.

Slowly, she let go of her control, and began fighting tooth and nail to break free. Her wrists chafed, writhing in Scar's strong grip. She couldn't stand the inaction; couldn't stand that blank look that she herself gave so well. She couldn't take it.

Riza hated to admit it, but she was almostafraid. For the first time in a very long while, Riza Hawkeye was at the point of being frightened.

Her pupils contracted, almost to pinpoints, and those silent, staring eyes filled her entire world. Her carefully schooled body thrashed wildly. But he didn't move. His stolid, unbudging weight continued to press against her. Out of desperation, her animal instincts took over.

Riza sank her teeth into Scar's jaw, ripping through the forgiving flesh of his utterly calm visage. The calming taste of the hot, coppery fluid brought her back to herself.

She blinked once, the scorching crimson of his eyes receding. She then went limp, allowing herself to stay trapped. She was trembling, but at least she had regained some amount of control.

Eyes flashing, Riza cautiously licked the blood from her lips, watching the Ishvarite carefully.

"You bit me," he finally murmured, not seeming very upset about it. For the first time, she noticed Scar's rosy eyes held no hostility.

Just immense, crushing sadness.

She nodded, temporarily having lost the power of speech. There wasn't much one could say to such a blunt statement, after all.

Transferring her left hand to hold both wrists in one of his large palms, Scar reached up and dipped a callused finger into the blood trickling from his jawline.

Fascinated, intrigued, Riza didn't struggle. Didn't take perhaps the only chance she'd get at escape. She just watched, as though hypnotized.

Slowly, deliberately, he moved the blood-coated digit towards her mouth, his eyes not leaving hers. Just as slowly and deliberately, she craned her neck a little, and licked the tip of it.

She paused, looking up at him. His face was as blank as ever. Unsure, she repeated the action, then leaned back, rolling the bittersweet flavor on her tongue.

Savouring it, if you will.

Deciding she liked it, Riza continued cleaning the sanguine liquid from his finger, finally sucking on the appendage to get the last traces of the coppery substance from the ridges of his dark skin.

Reluctantly, Scar placed his palm on top of her untidy blonde tresses. Riza stiffened. It was coming.

He'd lulled her into a false sense of security, and now it was coming. He was going to kill her.

At least it would only hurt for a moment.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the end. Somehow, she wasn't afraid.

His hand rested there for a long moment, a strange weight on her head. Then he sighed, stroking back those few strands of gold that always framed her face, his rough fingers grazing her cheek.

He kissed her.

It was only for a moment, barely a brush against her lips, but it was there. Riza's eyes flew open in shock.

"God help me," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Then, Scar let go of her wrists, backing away a little. He didn't look at Riza, as though he was ashamed. "I shall face the wrath of my god." he stated once, then turned. His footsteps slowly faded into the distance.

And Riza didn't reach for her gun.

Didn't even think of it.


End file.
